


Mercy

by clearspaghetti



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Gen, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, How Do I Tag, How Many Tropes Can I Fit Into One Fic, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra Peter Parker, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Peter Parker isn't Spider-Man, Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries, Protective Natasha Romanov, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, big sad, but actually kinda is, for plot convenience, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:14:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearspaghetti/pseuds/clearspaghetti
Summary: It was official – Peter Parker hated his life.He never expected to walk into class that day and see the dreaded words printed on the board: SENIOR FIELD TRIP. This was never going to end well.---I suck at summaries but it's basically Peter being a badass with some field trip sprinkled in because who doesn't love the field trip trope?
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 30
Kudos: 227





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first fic! Please comment any suggestions and enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV Peter

It was official – Peter Parker hated his life.

He never expected to walk into class that day and see the dreaded words printed on the board: SENIOR FIELD TRIP. The boy sat down heavily next to Ned, dropping his head against his arms, and closing his eyes to ward off the coming headache. All he could think about was the last field trip his went on – when he got bit by that stupid spider.

 _Damn you Norman Osborn,_ Peter thought, finally opening his eyes to see Ned looking at him with concern reflecting in his expression. Ned always seemed to be worried about him, which annoyed Peter to no end, but also filled him with a strange warmth that he hadn’t felt much growing up. But that was a story for later.

“What’s up dude?” Ned whispered, as to not disrupt Mr Harrington, who was droning on about chemistry, which Peter had learned years ago. He simply shook his head slightly, glancing around the room at the rest of the students – he didn’t want to talk about it here. Not where anyone could hear. It had been ingrained into him from an extremely young age to always assess his surroundings before speaking – HYDRA never wanted any sensitive information to be leaked. They were just smart like that – or so Peter had thought at the time. Now, it made his life so much harder, as constant paranoia and anxiety would bubble in his chest, threatening to boil over. _That_ wouldn’t be pretty.

“Nothing Ned, it’s just my stupid brain tricking me into thinking something’s wrong.” Peter smiled lightly at his friend, begging him internally to just let it go. Thankfully, he got the message just as Mr Harrington interrupted,

“Anything to add Mr Parker?” the poor man just wanted to get to the end of the year, and his tired voice made Peter feel bad for him, but it didn’t stop him from scanning the formula on the board quickly, smiling to himself. _Damn this is too easy_ , Peter laughed to himself before pointing to the second element.

“Actually sir, that should be doubled for it to be balanced.” Harrington at least had the decency to look shocked, but then scowled and asked to speak to Peter after class. Peter just rolled his eyes and stared out the window, his mind elsewhere. He could hear car horns blaring and the shouts of pissed off cab drivers, which was extremely distracting to him, but obviously no one else could even imagine hearing the noise from that far away. Perks of his enhanced hearing, or “Spidey-Senses” as Ned had so eloquently put it.

The bell yanked him back into the classroom, and the students immediately began to gather their belongings, ready to head to lunch, but Mr Harrington quickly yelled at them to sit down – he had an announcement,

“So, as you can see, there’s been a field trip planned for our chemistry class,” he gestured at the writing that had been on the board since the students had walked in, “and we have been incredibly lucky to be offered a visit to Stark Industries!”

Sound erupted in the small room, and Peter flinched, ducking his head. He had heard a lot about Stark Industries growing up in HYDRA: mainly that they were evil and trying to take over the world, and their leader, Tony Stark, was the mastermind. Knowing what he knew now, it sounded like an awfully foolish thing to believe, but as a child being trained to be an assassin, he knew it would be dangerous to believe anything other than what his handlers told him. It never ended well when he disobeyed.

“Okay class be quiet for a minute while I hand these out.” Mr Harrington began to hand the small pink slips to the students, but the chatter didn’t stop, as everyone was _way_ too excited about going to one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Peter, however, sat in his own misery. He knew that the permission slip would have to be signed by an adult, but the only adults in his life were a mentally unstable mercenary and a blind lawyer – both of whom happen to be vigilantes. Peter could imagine the look on their faces if he ever asked them to sign something like a field trip permission slip. It would cause Peter to melt into the ground in embarrassment.

Looking to his friend as they both pocketed their slips; Peter couldn’t help but smile at the excited gleam in Ned’s eyes. Tony Stark was one of his idols, and the boy hoped to get an internship there in the summer. Peter fully believed in him. Ned was literally one of the best coders in the school and Stark Industries would be incredibly dumb to reject him.

“Dude this is so awesome!” Ned shouted over the noise, “What if we meet the Avengers?”

“That probably won’t happen Ned, we’re going to Stark Industries, not the Avengers Compound,” Peter replied, slightly sorry to burst his friend’s bubble, “At most we might see Tony Stark, y’know considering it _is_ his company.”

“Yeah…” Ned suddenly perked up again, “but what if they _are_ there? That would be so cool!”

Peter rolled his eyes as an answer and made his way towards the door. A sharp tingle on the back of his neck told him that something was behind him as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder,

“Mr Parker, I thought I told you I wanted you to stay after class.” The teacher’s voice was stern, there was no room for argument. Peter smiled at Ned and told him he would meet him in the cafeteria.

Peter leaned against a nearby desk as he turned to face Harrington, “What’s up teach?”

“Mr Parker, I was going to let you know that I want to give speak with your guardian concerning the field trip,” the teacher said, “just to make sure you get an extra warning about wandering off like last time-”

Panic swelled in Peter’s chest – he didn’t _have_ a guardian: the person listed in his school documents was a random woman from Italy he had met on a mission. _May,_ his brain supplied unhelpfully. He immediately opened his mouth to say it was unnecessary, but Harrington cut him off,

“-but I know you’re a good kid Peter, and I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson from last time, haven’t you?”

Peter almost collapsed under the weight of relief and laughed, “Yeah sir, I definitely learned my lesson.”

“Good, now go get some lunch, I’m sure you’re hungry.” Harrington smiled warmly as Peter left the room, still shaken from the panic.

As he walked to the cafeteria, he tried to think back to the morning, mainly where he had left his extra backpack with his web-shooters. If he was going to THE Stark Industries, he wanted at least a little bit of protection, even if it was just scrap metal and web fluid, which he had thrown together quickly in the chemistry lab.

Ned looked at him with questions written all over his face as Peter sat down across from him, “ _what’s wrong?”_ was the first he chose to address,

“I have a feeling this isn’t gonna go well”.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is chapter two! I kinda know where I'm going with this but we'll see.

“WADE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Peter’s voice carried through the mercenary’s apartment, along with the screams of a seemingly random guy that was tied to a chair in the middle of the living room,

“Oh, hey Pete, I didn’t think you would be stopping by today.” Wade seemed gleeful as he turned his back on the man he had been previously punching repeatedly in the face. The teen pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in exasperation, he really didn’t think he would need to deal with this shit right after school.

The man in the chair groaned in pain, and both the eyes of the two others in the room settled on him once again. He was bleeding heavily from the nose and he had deep slashes across his chest from what Peter assumed were Wade’s machetes.

“Who is this guy Wade,” Peter sighed, “and why is he tied up in your living room?”

“He was snooping around the area, looked pretty sketchy, so I brought him in.” The older man shrugged, waving off Peter’s disapproving look before continuing, “All I found on him was a gun, a couple knives and a weird tattoo.”

Peter, still in the process of setting down his backpack near the door, froze, “A tattoo?”

Wade must have sensed the sudden panic in his voice, “Yeah that’s what I just said kid” he joked lightly, “Why?”

Peter ignored him, “Let me see it.”

The boy stalked towards the man in the chair like a predator as Wade lifted his sleeve, displaying a set of numbers printed across the wrist in bold black ink. The two stared at the numbers for a few seconds before Peter raised his eyes to meet the strangers’. A smug smile was plastered on his face, and Peter could think of nothing more enjoyable than to wipe it right off. He hadn’t even realised he was moving forwards before Wade grabbed his sleeve,

“What is it Peter? What does it mean?” Wade’s voice had taken on a gentle tone, as if he were speaking to a rabid animal. Peter scoffed and looked at him in the eye, brown eyes dark,

“It means HYDRA.”

* * *

_Dark, dark, dark, dark._

_It was all Peter could see, but he still felt them in the void: the rustling of gear or the hiss of a blade slicing through the air. He knew they couldn’t hurt him too badly – he was only a kid after all – but Peter had a feeling in the pit of his stomach, telling him it wouldn’t stop them._

_Peter hated this kind of training, but he was told that everyone had to go through it – only some were worth it. It taught recruits not to rely on their sight, so in the event that it was compromised they wouldn’t be completely screwed. At least, that’s what they were told. Peter reckoned it was just an opportunity to torture them._

_He had learned to sense them in the dark, listen for their near silent breath that escaped their lungs. Just has he would be ready, they would pounce, throwing kicks and punches into Peter’s face and body. He would try desperately to block them, to protect himself, but the hits just kept coming and coming. Every day, for fourteen years, he would end up on the ground, curled up in a ball while older recruits would smother him in violence._

_Peter was told he didn’t deserve mercy, so he decided the world didn’t deserve it either._

* * *

Peter was glad his face was covered by the mask he had hastily grabbed on his way out of Wade’s apartment (don’t ask why Wade had a plain black ski mask just laying around – you don’t wanna know), because he was absolutely beating the shit out of a would-be murderer and Peter didn’t really want anyone to know about it. Especially the police. Blood coated his hands and face as his fist met the flesh of the criminal again and again and again. It seemed like years before he stopped, stepping back, and letting the man drop to the ground – unconscious but alive.

Peter merely scowled at the sight of the crumpled body being slowly surrounded by a pool of scarlet. He knew the man would survive, Peter wasn’t a killer after all, but he wanted someone to hurt. To feel the pain that he had felt for all those years, even though a single fistfight in a back alley wouldn’t compare. Peter was aware that he had gone a little crazy but seeing the HYDRA agent just stirred the rage that he had bottled up inside himself all these years. Looking down at his fists – coated in blood from both the criminal and himself – he crouched behind a dumpster, only a few feet from the body. He wanted to make sure someone would find him, maybe take him to a hospital, get him help. So, he waited. It only took about thirty minutes, but Peter’s muscles ached from being frozen in a single position for so long.

When the coast was clear, he slipped further into the shadows, into a corner where his two backpacks lay discarded for the time being. One was his school bag, filled to the brim with textbooks he had stolen from the school, and the other was for his… extra-curricular activities. By that he meant the black mask he had taken from Wade and the old HYDRA gear he had escaped in – but that hadn’t been touched in a couple months. It brought back too many memories, yet on the nights that the cold seeped into his bones he would desperately pull on the uniform, trying to conserve heat he didn’t have.

As Peter huddled in the growing darkness, he came to a revelation: HYDRA was coming for him. It was the only reasonable explanation to the agent Wade had found near his apartment – they had made the connection between Peter and Deadpool and wanted more info. Peter’s breath came in short pants as he stumbled into a blind panic, and he watched the bright lights of the cars going past at the mouth of the alley with wide brown eyes.

“Please help.” He whispered into the noise of New York. Peter listened for a saviour, but he sat with only the blare of the city for company. Peter was truly alone and that feeling washed over him in a frosty wave, as he placed both hands over his ears and closed his eyes, praying to whatever god was out there – Thor or otherwise – and sank deep into what he hoped would be a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV Peter

Waking up in the middle of a New York winter after a night of sleeping in an alley was not fun. Peter’s muscles would ache and a deep chill would settle in his bones. But Peter was smart: he chose an alley that was close enough to school that he could get there before the bell rang and could have a shower in the locker rooms. Luckily, no one had caught him yet, and he knew there would be many questions if he was, but for now he was simply riding the high of the absence of Parker Luck.

“Hey! Watch out douchebag!” The man Peter had yelled at as he exited his alley, and promptly bumped into looked back, his bright blue eyes and young-looking face displaying surprise, before darkening,

“This goddamn city is gonna be the death of me.” The man muttered to himself as he sauntered away, not even having the decency to say anything to Peter, who just rolled his eyes and continued on his way to school. He knew that most people in New York were assholes, but the accent that Peter had heard from the man sounded… southern? But he imagined it was probably his enhanced hearing acting up, considering he _did_ just wake up.

It was another ten minutes before Peter arrived at the school, and he only just managed to do his regular routine before the bell rang and the day began. He pushed his way through the busy hall, making his way to his locker, and just as he opened it a hand slammed it shut again.

“Why so sad Parker? Can’t come on the field trip?” Flash taunted, but Peter tuned him out as he was filled with dread. The field trip was today. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit shit fuck goddamn it I hate my fucking life this is a nightmare,_ was the basic idea of what was going through his head as Flash snapped his fingers in front of his face,

“You listening Parker? Or do I need to make you listen?” Peter just rolled his eyes but drew into himself, which made him seem smaller than he actually was. It was a defence tactic really - it made the enemy underestimate him, and the bully was definitely an enemy. Eventually Flash got bored of Peter’s display of weakness and left him alone with a huff.

Meanwhile, Peter was hurriedly searching his locker for a pen, pencil, whatever, to sign the permission slip. He knew he had forgotten to do _something_ yesterday, but the whole fiasco with the HYDRA agent made it slip from his mind. The bell rang just as he finished off the (fake) signature of one May Parker. While any other regular person would be worried about forging a signature from a person that didn’t technically exist, the teenager was completely calm – he knew that the school just checked that the dotted line had writing on, but didn’t care much about who’s the writing was. There was also the fact that Peter was an absolute master at forging signatures, but no one else had to know that.

Peter smiled at Ned and gave MJ a small nod as he sat down in chemistry and noticed the buzzing energy in the room – and a loud voice at the back of the classroom proclaiming, “Just you wait, Tony Stark is gonna take one look at me and offer me an internship on the spot.”

Peter could almost laugh at Flash’s arrogance, but instead chose to share a knowing look with his two friends: Ned obviously trying to hold back a chuckle, and MJ burying her nose in her book, ignoring the real world in favour of a fictional one. Peter wished he could do the same, but the small noises that he could always hear would just distract him, which is why he didn’t really read anymore – not after the bite.

“Okay class! I know this is all very exciting, but I’m going to need you to calm down while I collect the permission slips.” Mr Harrington shouted, but his request of quiet was instantly forgotten after he returned to the front of the classroom. Chatter once again swelled in the room and, similarly to the day before, Peter placed his hands over his ears. Sometimes super senses really sucked.

* * *

Quiet didn’t land on Peter’s ears until they were parked outside of the soaring tower Stark Industries called home. The students, save for Peter and MJ, stared at the building in awe, and even Peter had to admit it was impressive. But then again, he _had_ seen the Burj Khalifa up close, so there was no competition really.

The early morning light was glinting off the glass as the class was guided by Mr Harrington to the entrance, where security guards glared at the kids. Metal detectors bleeped in the background as each student filed through, and the scowls never left the security's faces.

“Well, they’re not very friendly.” Peter muttered to Ned, who proceeded to snort and slap his arm. It gained a few glares from their peers, but thankfully they were ignored.

“I heard they’re so tight on security because the Head of Department is Mr Stark’s friend and since he’s a superhero and stuff…” Ned trailed off, looking at Peter expectantly. The latter only shrugged, nonchalant, and turned his eyes towards the front again, where Harrington was delivering a speech about safety in the tower and all that fun stuff. Everyone seemed to be impatient, desperate to get inside, and Peter almost let a snide “finally” slip as they were herded through the sliding glass doors.

The lobby itself screamed rich, but the people inside it screamed so much louder. Peter saw Rolex watches, Armani jackets, the whole works. He could laugh at how easy it would be to pickpocket them though – its like they _wanted_ to be robbed. The boy was so caught up in the absolute wealth in the room that it took MJ to nudge him in the ribs to get him to pay attention. He glared at the girl, rubbing his ribs as if it caused him pain.

“Loser.” she mumbled. Any other person would think she was being mean, but to Ned and Peter, it was affectionate. At least Peter hoped that was the case.

* * *

After no problems with security - except Flash being a complete dickhead, pushing his way to the front – the group was introduced to their tour guide. The man sauntered up to them, his blonde hair golden in the morning sun, with eyes that quickly scanned over the crowd before settling on Peter. Something akin to recognition flashed the man’s face before he schooled it into one of neutrality. For about two seconds Peter was confused, but then the man opened his mouth,

“Hey y’all, my name is Harley Keener and I’m gonna be your tour guide for the day.” His thick southern drawl was something Peter remembered from that morning. The man he had bumped into, or more fittingly, the asshole who had walked into him. It was just Peter’s luck that the guy he had pissed off hours before was stuck with them all day. The only thing that could make this situation even worse was the fact that he was so goddamn attractive. Peter could see both girls and boys alike swooning over Harley, and the boy could see the humour in his eyes as he led them towards the elevators. As they all piled into the strangely large elevator Harley looked up to the ceiling and spoke,

“Hey Friday? Be a doll and take us up to the museum.” Harley chuckled at the confusion that must have been displayed on the students’ faces, as he went on to explain, “Friday is the AI that runs the whole building, it’s really nerdy and I’m sure you’ll _love_ learning about it in the museum.”

As he finished speaking the doors slid open, revealing clean white floors with glass cases lining the walls. The lights were way too bright for such a white room, and Peter squinted, but evidently no one else had any problems with it as they rushed to the exhibits. Peter, however, stepped out of the elevator like a civilised person – he knew all this shit anyway, so he hung back by the wall, attempting to remain inconspicuous. Fortunately for him, Harrington was just as immersed in the history of Stark Industries to notice his student was not with the group. Peter didn’t blame him though; it’s not like he was trying to be noticed.

The boy felt the presence of Harley beside him before he even spoke but allowed him to be the first to initiate conversation anyway.

“So, you seem absolutely ecstatic to be on this tour,” he drawled sarcastically, “you too good for dear old dad?”

Peter looked up from where he had been studying the ground. Even he didn’t see _that_ coming, “Tony Stark’s your dad?” he asked.

“Yep.” Harley said simply, “The only reason I’m doing the tour is because he locked me out of my lab for being an – and I quote – ‘absolute imbecile’”. Peter smiled slightly at how domestic it all sounded, before looking back up at Harley.

“So how old are you then?”

“Nineteen this summer, I skipped the end of high school when I came to New York.” At Peter’s questioning glance he continued, “I’m originally from Tennessee, hence the weird accent.”

Both laughed quietly and watched the movement of the rest of the class through the museum. Personally, Peter found it strange that someone could want their whole lives printed on the walls to be seen by everyone, be he figured Tony Stark was used to having his whole life inspected under a microscope.

“It’s not weird.” Peter said suddenly.

“What?”

“Your accent. It’s not weird – it’s kinda nice actually.” Harley’s cheeks were dusted pink under the harsh lights, and he cleared his throat before replying.

“Um, thanks,” he met Peter’s eyes again, “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” Under Harley’s scrutinizing gaze he revised his answer, “It’s Peter.”

Harley held out a hand, “Nice to meet you Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they finally met! I'm really excited for the next few chapters and I hope you all like it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this took so long for me to post, and sorry if the Russian is inaccurate, google translate can only do so much!

As the group of students slowly trickled their way back towards the elevator, seemingly done with the museum, Harley clapped his hands twice, pulling their attention towards him and Peter.

“Okay kids,” he joked, “We’re gonna be checking out some of the labs next – it’s where all the fun stuff happens.”

A murmur of excitement rippled throughout the group, and Peter felt a spark of interest: he had always liked science, but never really had the time or energy to study it in detail. After some shuffling, the class managed to get into the elevator again, and as the doors closed, Peter felt an icy tingle drip down his spine before Flash’s voice hissed in his ear.

“You flirting with the tour guide Parker?” he laughed darkly, “Jesus how low do you have to go to get some attention?” Flash pulled away from Peter’s ear as Harrington looked over, his eyes scanning his students. Peter knew that the teacher was aware of the snarky little comments that Flash made to him, but what he could never understand was why he didn’t put a stop to it – not that Peter needed him to – but wasn’t it kind of his job?

Meanwhile Harley, who was standing directly in front of Peter, cleared his throat pointedly while giving Flash a side-eye even Peter was proud of. The rest of the class were chatting happily amongst themselves, and MJ turned to Peter with a curious stare, “Where were you?” she demanded.

“What do you mean? When?” Peter replied, indifferent. MJ rolled her eyes so hard Peter was surprised they didn’t stay there, but answered nonetheless, “Back in the museum dumbass, you disappeared and then suddenly you were chatting up Mr Kentucky over here.” She said, gesturing to Harley, who obviously didn’t hear, or just didn’t care enough to respond.

“He’s actually from Tennessee -”

“You even got his life story?”

“- and why does everyone think I’m flirting with him; can two people not just have a conversation these days?” Peter asked exasperatedly, “Like seriously, it’s annoying.”

MJ shrugged her shoulders, “Whatever Peter, still doesn’t explain where yo-”

“I didn’t go anywhere!” Peter exclaimed and blushed horrendously when all eyes turned to him and MJ’s little conversation in the corner. He managed to stutter out a quick “S-sorry” before the elevator doors slid open once again.

After a beat of awkward silence, Harley stepped out of the elevator and waved the class forward, “These are the intern labs – please don’t touch anything and be respectful: everyone’s sleep deprived.” Peter was sure he had said it as a joke, but from the heavy bags that were visible underneath the eyes of pretty much everyone in the room, he wasn’t too far off the mark.

Meanwhile, the class looked around in wonder: there were dismantled robots and phones on tables, and the occasional beaker of chemicals were dotted around the room. Loud voices drifted from the back office, slicing through the relatively calm environment that the interns had created, drawing concerned glances towards the door from most of them.

No one dared move towards the shouting, and Peter’s class hovered awkwardly at the exit. Peter was lucky – he could hear what the two scientists were arguing about, and it wasn’t anything for the interns to worry about, but the rest of the room didn’t know that, so the thick tension that loomed over them lingered. There was something strange about the voices though, something that Peter could seem to place –

“Okayyyyy,” Harley said, mainly to eliminate the silence, “I guess you can ask the interns some questions if they’re not busy.” And thus, the whole class forgot their wariness and surged forwards, presumably to pester the poor sleep-deprived workers about their projects. Once again, Peter hung back, still deep in his analysis of the voices he had heard – primarily the woman. It had a heavy, melodic edge to it, but she was covering it up well, given that even Peter couldn’t place it, but it tickled something in the back of his mind that was becoming extremely annoying. A sharp poke to his shoulder wrenched him out of his head, and to the concerned eyes of Ned and Harley.

“Hey dude you good?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter looked at him questioningly – had something happened in the time he had zoned out?

“You were scowling real hard at the floor there darlin’,” This time it was Harley who spoke, and Peter felt his cheeks heat at the endearment, “Something wrong?”

Peter attempted a genuine smile, “Nope, just thinking.” He said and immediately grabbed Ned’s arm and dragged him to the nearest intern’s desk. The boy obviously got the message that he wanted him to act normal, because he began to chat with the person who was working on one of the dismantled phones. Peter however, only heard half of the conversation, as a sharp sting arose on the back of his neck. He scanned the room, twisting his body around, and his eyes landed on the back office door once again. It had grown unusually quiet in the office, but Peter knew that the two scientists were still in the room – he could hear their heartbeats and the rasp of breath from their lungs. But there was no movement.

“Well, that’s not fucking creepy at all.” Peter said under his breath, glancing around the room to make sure everyone was distracted, before slowly making his way towards the office. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice his movement, so he moved his hand toward the handle, but just as his fingers met the cool metal, it twisted beneath them. The door promptly swung open, revealing who Peter assumed was the lady with the strange accent. Her eyes were a rich brown, which widened in astonishment and realisation, before Peter quickly backed away, once again playing the role of the scrawny high schooler, muttering his apologies quietly.

The woman, now recovered from her shock, swiftly stepped out of the doorway and towards the exit, never once taking her eyes off Peter – it was like she was scared to leave him unmonitored. Then again, the boy didn’t let the lady out of his peripheral vision either, as he hurried back towards Ned, until one curse fell from her lips:

“ _Ебать_ ”.

Peter froze.

The woman’s heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked away, probably still oblivious to Peter’s revelation. He faintly processed her taking out her phone and calling someone – _them_ ­– but the words didn’t compute; his brain had gone into full meltdown. Dazedly he wandered from Ned to Harley, intending to tell him that they were coming, and they were coming for him, yet the words felt heavy on his tongue. So many words were crowded in his mouth but not a single syllable could be heard, only his shallow breaths that struggled to reach his lung.

 _Be rational,_ Peter’s brain whispered, _just because she was Russian doesn’t mean she’s evil._ While that was a fair point, the boy had seen how she had recognised him with his own two eyes. There was no mistaking it:

HYDRA.

If he were alone, Peter probably would’ve cried in absolute desperation, but he knew that it was highly likely that some trained assassins were on their way to him right at this very moment, which was slightly more important than his emotions. So in lieu of melodrama, he scanned the room, taking in potential casualties and property damage if a fight were to break out in the labs. Not that Peter could help with any medical bills or replacing equipment – he was living on the streets for god’s sake.

“Peter! Come look at this!” Harley shouted across the room, blind to Peter’s crisis. In an attempt to be as casual as possible, he strolled across the lab, avoiding the eyes of his classmates. A look of concern was plastered on Harley’s face, but Peter simply waved it off, asking him what he wanted to show him.

“I didn’t actually wanna show you anything, you just looked a bit… off,” Harley explained, “You okay darlin’?”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Yeah I’m fine, its nothing you need to worry about.” _Hopefully,_ he added internally. In truth, there was a gnawing feeling in his gut, which he knew was a sign of danger, but Peter stubbornly ignored it. Until the gunshots started, that is.

It was a strange thing really, being able to sense danger before it comes, and it always earned him a few confused looks. Like right now for example, when he shouted, “Get down!” moments before the crack of a gunshot pierced through the air. Luckily, the shooter had aimed at the ceiling and no one had gotten hurt. Yet.

Peter whirled around to face the man: he was tall, with broad shoulders and HYDRA’s staple black mask covering his face.

“Listen, we don’t want any trouble,” Peter said, lifting his arms up in surrender, “Let’s all just calm down.” In reply, the man scoffed, his accent thick, “You don’t have to worry about anything 2127.”

Peter tensed at the name, but didn’t move, his eyes glued to the agent while the rest of the people in the room huddled in the corner. Harley was at the front of the group with Ned and MJ, while Harrington was attempting to console Peter’s classmates, but shooting worried looks in their direction.

“Peter what’s happening?” Ned whispered, fully aware that he could hear him. Peter just shook his head slightly, praying that no one else would say anything. Meanwhile, the agent looked smug, and it reminded Peter of the man in Wade’s apartment the day before – it was the same sickly-sweet smile. It made him want to throw up. The agent once again raised the gun, pointing it straight at the boy when Mr Harrington spoke up.

“Please, just take whatever you want, just don’t hurt us.” He pleaded. The agent scowled at the teacher, “I’m not here for cash, I’m here for _him_.” He pointed at Peter, who stepped forwards again, trying to keep the gun pointed at him.

“So, are you going to come with me 2127, or are we going to do this the hard way?” The agent asked Peter readying his gun. Luckily, Peter was prepared.

A small _thwip_ answered his question, as Peter’s web-fluid covered his face. The man clawed at the material, using his nails, and in the meantime, the boy confiscated his weapon.

“Thanks for the gun dude!” He said with false enthusiasm, before kicking it away towards the window. Peter then leaped at the man, his shoe meeting his face with a loud _crack_. Taking a deep breath, Peter walked over to the window, inspecting the gun closely. It was HYDRA issued.

Looking over at the crowd of people, he smiled slightly, before tensing. He had been so focused on the first agent, his senses didn’t pick up the _click-clack_ of heels on marble. The woman.

An almost painful pinch on the back of his neck made Peter freeze, and he felt the air being sucked out of the room as everyone gasped. It was comical, the way their sharp inhales happened in unison. Not that Peter would dare laugh with a fucking gun to his head. The woman barked out a quick, “On your knees agent” as she dug the barrel of the weapon into his neck. Faintly, Peter heard the sound of crying, and he wondered if they were crying for him. Probably not – it wasn’t often anyone really cared if he lived or died.

Suddenly, the pressure on his neck gave, and in one swift movement, Peter swung up, leaping off the ground and wrapping his legs around the woman’s neck and slamming her into the ground. A well-timed fist met his jaw as Peter stood up, and he retaliated with a quick kick to the chest. Wiping blood from the side of his mouth – he’d probably lost a tooth or something – he shot a web at her arms, effectively sticking her to the floor.

For a moment, the room was silent with shock, until a small voice – Harley – shattered the quiet,

“You’re enhanced?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo... that happened...
> 
> On a different note, did anyone watch the WandaVision finale on Friday? It was awesome!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re enhanced?”

Harley’s voice split through the silence like a knife, and it filled Peter with cold dread. He must have looked like a deer stuck in headlights as Flash – and the rest of the people in the room – recovered from their shock.

“What the actual fuck?” Flash finally verbalised, “Like what the fuck just happened?”

“Language.” A new voice spoke, and Peter could feel the righteousness radiating from the other side of the room. Captain – fucking – America occupied the doorway, concern painted on his face, “Is everyone okay?”

Peter scoffed, “Define okay.”

The man studied Peter, his blue eyes then roaming the room, but again coming back to settle on the boy who still had the woman draped at his feet. Peter could’ve laughed at the expression on his face but decided it would be inappropriate – considering the circumstance. Unfortunately, the teenager completely forgot that speaking would draw attention to himself, but soon remembered as thirty pairs of eyes swung back his way, all conveying the same message - _Did he just talk back to Captain America?_

Personally, Peter thought they had much bigger things to worry about than an Avenger – y’know like the fact they were just in a semi-hostage situation – but he figured that was a problem for another day. Instead, he slowly walked towards the group, meaning to find MJ and Ned, but immediately they all shuffled away. They were scared. Somehow, Peter wasn’t surprised – he _did_ just take down two people with guns – yet it still drained him of any last hope that he could be normal.

“I think we should go upstairs.” Harley said.

* * *

Being flanked by a super solider from the 1940s and a six-foot southerner in a confined space wasn’t intimidating to Peter at all. Well, mostly. While he had taken down opponents much more dangerous (if you could get more dangerous than Steve Rogers) it didn’t stop him from being a _little_ nervous. The two blondes were stoically silent as the elevator glided up to what Peter assumed would be the penthouse, and Peter fidgeted between them, but never once said a word.

The silence was broken by the happy little ding of the elevator and arguing greeted them as the trio advanced into the main area.

“What’s the point in being called one of the safest buildings in the States if the security can be hacked into just like _that_.” A snap of the fingers accompanied the female voice and as they rounded the corner, they found Iron Man himself and Pepper Potts facing off in the middle of the room, with the rest of the ‘World’s Mightiest Heroes’ sat uncomfortably on the couches.

The shouting match abruptly halted as Peter, Harley and Steve walked into the room. Peter was tired of being looked at, and the way the Avengers eyes showed confusion just made him sigh. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling briefly before Harley broke the silence again, “This is Peter – he’s enhanced.” He said bluntly.

Their eyes widened and Peter looked incredulously at Harley, who left his side and sat down heavily on a couch, his eyes dim. Suddenly, Peter felt guilt weigh on his chest: Harley, and everyone else for that matter, had probably thought they were going to do a regular field trip. He felt especially bad for his class – they had earned this trip and Peter had managed to ruin it for them.

While Peter was having his little existential crisis, Steve had stepped forwards to speak to Tony, his tone low, “I didn’t see the fight but there were two of them – both HYDRA,” he said, “And it looks like the kid took them out on his own.”

At his words, the heroes erupted into noise, seemingly voicing how _That isn’t possible, he’s just a kid,_ or _What the hell?_ Their disbelief only fuelled how hilarious Peter found this situation, but the strained atmosphere told him to keep quiet. He knew that his disregard of authority and his ability to find humour in any situation got him in trouble – he learned that the hard way. So instead of interrupting the Avenger’s little mother’s meeting, he let his eyes wander.

The room was mostly glass, with two of the outside walls revealing the New York skyline in all its glory. Skyscrapers brushed their fingertips against the clouds and the lights flickered in the buildings: people leaving offices or entering their apartments. While Peter had always loved the stretch of the towers, as soon as he had arrived in New York as a burned-out 15-year-old he had lived in the streets - and they had taken care of him for the most part. He always managed to find somewhere to sleep, and if he missed out on a couple meals, that was his own fault, right?

“- we can’t just keep him here, he probably has someone to go back to, right kid?” Peter tuned back into the conversation as Tony addressed him. Dumbly, the boy stayed silent, kind of shocked that the man would even care if Peter had family – he expected to be taken to SHEILD as soon as he’d been found out. When he didn’t answer, Tony’s eyes softened and he lowered his voice slightly, “If you don’t have anyo-”

“I have somewhere to go!” Peter blurted, after all, he did technically have Wade or Matt to go to – surely they would help him out if he asked. Not that he would.

“Ребенок, it’s ok, you don’t have to be afraid of us.” The red-headed assassin – Natasha - said from the couch, as her eyes bore into his. It was like she was trying to search is soul for his Tragic Backstory™, and she obviously failed, because her face contorted in frustration. Peter had always prided himself in being someone even the greatest spy couldn’t figure out – it was a skill he had perfected for a reason.

Peter shook his head, “I’m not afraid of you, I just don’t trust you.”

“Well at least he’s honest,” Steve said, “Where you from kid?”

The boy smiled lightly, “What did I just say Captain? I. Don’t. Trust. You.” He waved his hand aimlessly, “Did you really think I would just _give_ you my life story? C’mon, you need to try harder than that.”

Steve frowned at Peter’s mockery, but the boy didn’t really care - he just wanted to leave this god-forsaken tower and never come back. Like ever. So, he continued, “So can I go now? I have places to go, people to see and all that jazz.”

The heroes all looked at each other – they couldn’t really let a superpowered teen out into the streets, but they also couldn’t keep him there: that would technically be kidnapping, and no one really wanted _that_ on their conscience.

“Okay kid, just don’t get into any trouble.” Tony warned.

* * *

Getting back down to the lobby wasn’t nearly as scary as the ride up, but Peter wasn’t any less on edge. After his ‘conversation’ with the Avengers, he had quickly hurried out of the room, his Spidey-Sense had been prickling the whole time. He was lucky he was able to ignore it, the pure sense of unease that had settled in his gut the second he had walked into the tower hadn’t let up in hours, and he wanted to punch someone. Hard. Peter knew that it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism per se, but it didn’t make it any less fun.

But as soon as the doors slid shup behind him, he was flooded with the sheer _noise_ of the city. His ears felt like they were pouring blood and he just wanted to go to sleep – the day had been way to long for his liking. Hazily, he remembered his class: had they gone home already? Surely Mr Harrington hadn’t left without him, but a quick look around the street outside the tower, it seemed that was the case.

Peter stumbled through the crowded sidewalk, not even bothering to apologise to the people whose shoulders he knocked, or feet he stepped on. It was just way too _loud_. The boy knew the best idea would be to get to Wade’s apartment, but the silent judgement that would follow him was just too much. So that was out of the picture. Matt’s place? The man was almost certainly busy, and Peter didn’t want to be a burden. In conclusion, he had absolutely nowhere to go.

Peter hadn’t really realised how long he had been at the tower, and night was falling fast. The darkness was creeping along the sides of buildings and he had the awful feeling that they were following him – it was as if ice water had been poured down his back. Peter was freezing, but sweat glistened on his skin, glinting under the fluorescent streetlights. In the back of his mind, he knew that soon the panic would set in, and his feet were suddenly taking him to Central Park. It wasn’t a long walk, but his bleary eyes and the ringing in his ears made it so much longer.

Peter let out a small puff of breath as his back hit the bench be had found himself on. Looking up at the green of the trees, he was reminded of Italy: May, the warmth that her presence had brought him. It was the only affection he had ever received, and Peter could never tell if he missed it or despised it for making it so much more desirable.

Eyes sliding shut, muscles falling limp, Peter sank into the shadows and they welcomed him – he always ended back here sooner or later. Some part of his brain registered a tingle of feeling on his arm, but he stubbornly decided to pay it no attention. He was just so _tired_.

“Peter!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really happened in this chapter, but we're gonna do some Harley POV next! Fun times.  
> Also, I'm British and the number of times I've had to write 'apartment' and not 'flat' in this fic is painful.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Side note: my friend bella_boo has a fic called Zillah Lokisdottir and it's amazing, y'all should definitely go read it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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